


Damaged

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Homeland
Genre: Character studies, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Mental Illness, One Shot, Trauma, bipolar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: "You came back damaged," Saul told Carrie. "I should have known."pre canon exploration of what Saul might have seen in Carrie when she came back from that mission and he first witnessed her bipolar disorder.
Relationships: Saul Berenson/Carrie Matthison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Damaged

She comes home from mission wild, almost savage. He barely knows what to make of her. He rationalizes it happens sometimes. It doesn’t cross his mind to worry. Not exactly. Not at first.

But there’s a strangeness to her, an otherness. Her eyes sparkle with mystery he rarely allows himself to acknowledge, let alone indulge. She brings to mind fairies or at the very least, changelings. 

He realizes the folly of his fantasy, when she tackles him. There is nothing Faye about her strength. He visits to check on her, to drop off a parcel of something or other, but she has an agenda all her own. 

“Carrie, what the fuck,” he gasps, pressed back into the wall of her apartment. Years later, his brain would register both the pressure of her delicate but fierce hands on his neck and the quick heat of her breath on his face, but at this moment, there is just the primal beat of his heart. 

“Come on Saul,” she scoffs. 

He tries to grab her wrists, but her strength is formidable. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you know?”

“I hope I don’t!”

She mashes her lips against his, forces her tongue into his mouth. She tastes like cigarettes and wine and it should revolt him, but it intoxicates. For a moment he forgets himself and sucks on the pebbled muscle she thrusts between his lips. His hands grip her waist. She’s so small. He’s like a fucking bear compared to her kittenish figure. Her hands move to his belt and break the spell. He pushes her away. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” She stands on tiptoe and tries to whisper-kiss her words into his ear. 

“No.” His insistence is a lie, but he claims it all the same. 

“When you’re alone, in bed at night?” She rubs her hips against him and he’s mortified at how hard he is. 

“Of course I haven’t, Carrie. I’m married.”

“David Estes didn’t care he was married. Marriage is a myth.”

“This is not happening, Carrie.”

“But why? Don’t you want me?”

“No. I do not.” He declares and Carrie looks at him with surprise as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her, but wounds her deeply now that it lands. 

“You don’t find me attractive?” She asks, voice incredulous, lips quivering.

“I’ve never thought of you that way,” he lies again. “And besides, I’m your mentor!”

“Mentor,” she huffs in a bitter laugh. “What does that even mean.” 

He pushes her back, hard, so she lands on her sofa in a rough heap. He hates how pretty she looks with her hair falling in her face, and hates it even more when she brushes it away and looks up at him with mystical, marble eyes. “You damn well know what it fucking means,” he growls. “You’re drunk and I”m leaving.” He makes for the door.

“Oh.” Her plaintive tone is genuine. It tugs him. He turns. She folds her hands in her lap and regards him with eyes suddenly glassy and full of tears. “Nonono. Please. Please don’t go, Saul.” She stutters. Begs. She is smaller than a dewdrop on a rose petal.

All his better instincts tell him to beat it out the door and not look back. 

But another, deeper part of him indicate he witnesses something truly fragile- a broken piece of crystal, or a damaged package of something quite precious. Three strides and he’s back. He sits on the sofa beside her. “Come here,” he says and gathers the bits of her into his arms. She sobs on his chest. She begs forgiveness in a steady stream until his shirt is soaked. 

Saul feels the pieces of her come together in his hands. He feels the dewdrops of her tears on his skin beneath the cloth of his clothing. He holds her as tightly as he can trust himself without breaking her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you know me at all, you know I'm obsessed with the dynamics between Carrie and Saul. . . and you know I live and breathe for any comments and reflections. Thank you for reading my work and for being here with me in this precious time and space. xoxoxo.


End file.
